


Super Mario and Angel Save the Day

by Spikedluv



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), American Idol RPF, Kris Allen (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Community: Kradam Flashfic, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-12
Updated: 2011-11-12
Packaged: 2017-10-26 00:23:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/276509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spikedluv/pseuds/Spikedluv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A spell turns Adam and Kris into their Halloween costumes</p>
            </blockquote>





	Super Mario and Angel Save the Day

**Author's Note:**

> You know the Buffy episode in which they all turn into their costumes? Yep. Originally I thought, make Adam turn into a vampire or pirate and have him capture Kris and take him back to his lair to have his wicked way with him. It was going to be sexy times all around. But I couldn’t get the image of Kris as Super Mario out of my head, so instead of sexy times, I give you humor. *g*
> 
> AU; humor; kinda cracky. Written for prompt #7: **costume** at kradamflashfic. I stole this idea from Buffy. Since I’d already stolen the idea, I also stole some dialogue. Also, great liberty taken with Super Mario in all its incarnations. Um, sorry?
> 
> Written: November 9, 2011

[ ](http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v292/spikedluv/Kradam/?action=view&current=140supermario2010.jpg)

As his vision cleared, the form of the thing Mario had shoved off himself resolved itself into a man. It wasn’t his brother Luigi, nor did he look like one of Bowser’s henchmen. He was dressed all in black, though, from his hair to the three inch heels on his boots, which didn’t bode well. Everyone knew that the bad guy always wore black.

“Ow, fuck, my head,” the man in black groaned, raising a pale hand and pressing it to his head. Rings on the man’s fingers caught the light and shimmered, but what caught Mario’s attention was the smattering of freckles across the back of the hand, and the black nail polish at the tips.

“What the fuck happened?”

“You swear an awful lot,” Mario commented evenly, despite the continued pounding in his head. “And also, I have no idea; I just woke up, as well.”

The MiB sat up slowly. It looked like he was considering an attempt at standing, but thought better of it. Instead he looked over at Mario; a frown creased his forehead. “Who are you?”

“Mario,” said Mario. “Who are you?”

The MiB opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. He tried again, to the same effect. An expression of frustration and almost fear darkened the lovely features of his face.

Mario couldn’t believe he’d just thought that about a man he didn’t even know. To cover, he said, “I’m sure you’ll remember as soon as your head stops hurting.”

Frustration and fear turned to suspicion. “How do you know my head hurts?”

Mario raised an eyebrow. “Because you just said, ow, fuck, my head,” he said dryly, wondering just how hard the other man had been struck on the head.

“Oh,” the MiB said, deflating. He looked away from Mario, and then his head snapped back. His eyes had gone black to match the rest of his ensemble, and he snarled at Mario around the fangs that had dropped.

Mario jerked back so hard he heard the bones in his neck pop, but he went nowhere because he was already backed up against what appeared to be a sofa.

“You’re bleeding,” the MiB – vampire – no, Mario decided, much better to continue thinking of him as the MiB – said.

Mario reached up and gingerly touched the spot on the back of his head from where the pounding originated. When he drew his hand forward, blood stained the tips of his fingers. He wiped them onto his pants. The MiB followed the gesture with an expression of longing and disappointment.

“You . . . .” Mario had to swallow hard and begin again. “You’re a vampire.”

The MiB apparently heard the fear in Mario’s voice and he actually looked hurt by it. “With a soul!” he said.

Mario couldn’t stop his eyebrow from going up again. “A vampire with a soul? How lame is that?”

The MiB looked offended, and Mario thought maybe he should think before speaking, especially when it came to insulting a vampire.

“At least I help people,” the MiB said, pouting. “What do you do?”

“I help people, too,” Mario said. “I’m a plumber. And I also save the princess,” he added proudly.

“Plumber I can believe, but you really expect me to believe you go out saving princesses in _that_ outfit?” the MiB scoffed.

“What’s wrong with my clothes?” Mario asked, plucking at the leg of his blue overalls. They were quite serviceable, and very comfortable.

“What _isn’t_ wrong with them?” the MiB replied, eyes moving in horrified fascination from the ‘M’ on the front of Mario’s red hat to the scuffed toes of his brown work boots. “Nice gloves, by the way.”

Mario was formulating a scathing reply when a sound from the other side of the sofa froze them both. A scrape, and then a groan. Mario went up onto his knees as quietly as he could and peered over the back of the sofa. The MiB crawled over silent as a whisper and joined him, their shoulders touching as they surveyed the scene before them.

Several dozen bodies were sprawled out across the floor, lying where they’d fallen when whatever had knocked out Mario and the MiB had done the same to them. They were in various states of consciousness. Additional groans filled the air as more of the bodies stirred.

“Um . . . ,” Mario said. “This doesn’t look like the Mushroom Kingdom _at all_.”

“I could use some good ‘shrooms right now,” the MiB muttered.

Mario ignored him, because monsters and unnatural beings that he’d only read about in storybooks came to life right in front of his eyes. Witches and goblins, Frankenstein and Cupid, Tinkerbell and . . . standing right in front of the sofa, staring hungrily at them, a zombie with blood staining its shirt and chunks of its face missing.

“Uh . . . ,” Mario said.

“Holy shit,” the MiB added. “We should get the hell out of here.”

“Can’t you fight it?” Mario whispered even though the zombie had already seen them. So far nothing else in the room had spotted them and he wanted to keep it that way. “I mean, you’re a vampire,” he added when the MiB turned an expression of ‘what the fuck’ on him. “And you said you help people.”

“Sure,” the MiB said, “I could fight it, but I can’t fight all of them. You’re the princess-saving ‘Super Mario’,” he scoffed, complete with finger quotes, which Mario thought was out of line. “Why don’t _you_ fight it?”

Mario thought for a moment, considering his options. The MiB tugged on the sleeve of his red shirt to hurry him along. Mario checked his pockets to see if he had any of his tools with him. His fingers fell on a fire flower tucked in the front pocket of his overalls.

“Okay, let’s go,” Mario said as he let the MiB drag him towards the doorway behind them.

Mario raised his hand and shot a fireball at the zombie just as it readied itself to leap for them. The fireball hit the zombie in the chest and knocked it off its feet. The zombie flew backwards and slammed into the werewolf that was just rising to its feet, standing on unsteady legs. The werewolf snarled and attacked the zombie. They knocked into the witch as they rolled around, who fell into a troll, and soon everything that had regained consciousness was involved in the fight.

Mario and the MiB escaped during the melee. The doorway the MiB dragged him through led to a kitchen, which opened onto the backyard. They stayed in the shadows as they skirted the house, not wanting to draw any attention from the supernatural entities brawling inside the living room. Instead of a dose of sanity, the sidewalk only revealed more monsters. The MiB kicked at a gremlin as it ran for Mario, sharp teeth gleaming, and then picked up Mario and easily tossed him over the fence to relative safety, jumping over to join him on the other side.

“I think my name is Angel,” the MiB said as they crouched on the other side of the fence, watching as small creatures, yowling cats, pirates, and ghosts, attempted to breach the door of the house sitting on the lot they were now hiding upon.

“Angel? What kind of . . . ? You know what, never mind,” Mario said when the MiB, Angel, turned black eyes on him. “Great name. I’m sure it strikes fear into the heart of . . . absolutely no one.”

“And Mario is so much better?” Angel snarked.

Mario opened his mouth to snark back, but he happened to glance at the door to the house just when the ghost got tired of waiting its turn. The ghost floated through the pirate and the pissed off cat, and floated right on through the door.

“Uh oh. We need to figure out what’s going on here before people get hurt. I mean, where did all these monsters come from? Unless I’ve fallen into an alternate dimension . . . .” (which was not unheard of; they’d done it before) “. . . and these creatures are usual for this place. But then, how did I get here, and how do I get back? We need to find answers.”

“And how do you suggest we do that?” Angel asked, sounding only a little bit sarcastic.

“I don’t know,” Mario said. “Maybe, maybe we should start with you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. I mean, you _look_ like a real vampire. Your eyes change color when you get all ‘grrr’.”

“All ‘grrr’?” Angle mocked, then got distracted with, “Wait, they do? What color?”

“Black,” Mario told him.

“Cool,” Angel said, well, coolly, but Mario could tell that he was dying to pull out a compact and check.

Mario leaned closer to Angel and stared at his mouth.

“What are you doing?”

“Are your fangs real?”

Angel smirked, the change in his eye color forgotten. “Would you like me to bite you to test them out?”

“No?” Mario said. “Can I just . . . see them?”

Angel rolled his eyes, but he let his fangs drop so Mario could examine them. Mario slipped his glove off one hand and reached out, pressing the tip of his finger to the sharp point of the fang. Even a light touch drew blood. Angel’s eyes went black as he scented the small drop, but Mario ignored him and ran his finger over the fang. Angel groaned.

“Does that hurt?” Mario asked, worried that he’d inadvertently hurt Angel.

He would have withdrawn his finger, but Angel had closed his lips on it and was sucking, his tongue pressing against the tip as if trying to milk more blood out of the tiny piercing.

“Not exactly,” Angel said when he released Mario’s finger.

Before Mario could formulate a reply, Angel pushed him back onto the grass and covered him with his body. He pressed his lips to Mario’s, sucking and licking at them. Mario thought that now might be a good time to issue a protest, but when he opened his mouth (with every intention of issuing said protest, he was 100% certain – well, 99.9% certain), Angel slipped his tongue inside.

Mario’s brain short-circuited and his body took over. He found his hand sliding into Angel’s hair and holding him in place as he wrested away control of the kiss. Angel let him, eagerly pressing his hips into Mario’s and sliding his tongue against Mario’s own. The only thought Mario could form as he pushed his hips up to meet Angel’s downward thrusts was that Anne Rice had it all wrong; vampire’s could totally get erections.

A high pitched scream broke them apart and they watched as a green M&M ran away from a large lumbering football player.

“Um,” Mario said. “We should probably . . . .”

“Fuck. Yeah,” Angel agreed, though it took him a moment to raise himself off Mario and gain his feet. He reached down for Mario’s hand and pulled him up.

“My hat!” Mario said as he felt it slide off his head, dislodged from his stint on the ground. He grabbed for it, but missed.

“Leave it,” Angel said, tightening his grip on Mario’s hand to keep him from bending down to retrieve it, his other hand sliding through Mario’s hair before his fingers tightened there and he dragged Mario’s head back so he could capture his mouth again.

Mario was breathless when Angel released his lips, and unable to comment when he was unceremoniously lifted and dropped back over the fence so they didn’t have to attempt to sneak past the group of monsters surrounding the front of the house. Angel leapt over the fence to join him, then took Mario’s hand and started them down the sidewalk.

“Where are we going?” Mario asked as he contemplated their joined hands.

“Where there’s more people,” Angel said.

“And what are we looking for?” Mario said, curling his fingers around Angel’s and staring at the sidewalk to hide his blush.

“Someone who doesn’t look surprised at what’s going on.”

They found the man responsible for the chaos, but not before they discovered that ‘more people’ translated into ‘more monsters’. They were attacked by a group of vampires that mocked Angel’s soul (which pissed Mario off even though he’d also made fun, but that had been before Angel had kissed him, and that seemed to make things different even though Mario didn’t think it probably should), a Viking, and Xena. With Angel’s super strength and speed, and the neat things Mario kept pulling out of his a–, er, pockets, they managed to escape with their lives, even if they both sported bruises and cuts that would remind them of the fights for the next several days.

The man’s name was Simon. They knew this because when they came upon him, Simon held a Magic 8-ball in his hand and was asking it questions like, “Is Simon the greatest wizard ever?” and “Will Simon rule the world?” After he asked each question Simon looked at the 8-ball and cackled as he read the ‘answer’ out loud.

“What have you done?” Angel demanded angrily.

Simon paused in his questioning of the 8-ball and looked them both over. “Who wants to know?” he said, instead of answering.

“Angel,” Angel said.

“Mario,” Mario said.

Simon looked surprised for a moment, and then he burst out laughing. “A vampire with a soul and a plumber,” he said as if he couldn’t believe it. “And you think you’re going to stop me? How bloody cute.”

“I’m really getting sick of that,” Angel muttered in an aside to Mario.

Mario nodded. He didn’t much care for being mocked, either, but he’d found that people usually underestimated him because they didn’t view him as a threat. He tried to be a glass half-full kind of guy.

“What have you done?” Mario repeated Angel’s question.

Simon looked at Mario as if he were considering ignoring him, then shrugged. “I’ve created chaos.”

“Why?” Angel said, as they both tried to ignore the screams around them and concentrate on Simon, who had created this whole mess.

“Why not?” Simon said. He surveyed the chaos he’d wrought with pleasure. “It’s brilliant!”

“People are getting hurt,” Mario said, trying to remain reasonable.

“So?”

“We’re going to have to stop you,” Angel informed Simon.

Simon smirked. “You can try.”

Simon didn’t appear to be the slightest bit concerned, which was worrying to Mario. He reached out to touch Angel’s arm, but Angel was already lunging at Simon. Mario watched in horror as Angel hit an invisible force field and bounced off.

“Angel!”

Mario dragged Angel away from Simon and went to his knees to check on him.

“I’m fine,” Angel assured Mario, but he didn’t look fine.

Mario glared at Simon as he fingered the fire flower in his pocket.

“Nothing supernatural can penetrate my shield,” Simon said, spreading his hands out as if caressing the shield. He smirked again when he saw the fireball cradled in Mario’s palm. “I wouldn’t do that, if I were you.”

“You’re not me,” Mario snarled, and flung the fireball at Simon.

Simon didn’t even flinch as the fireball flew towards him. And with good reason. The fireball hit the shield and bounced back, just as Angel had. Mario ducked, protecting Angel with his body, and the fireball flew over his head and hit a parked car behind them.

“Told you,” Simon said.

Angel pushed to his feet and stalked around Simon, his eyes moving up and down, as if studying the force field for a weakness. Or looking for the force field itself. Angel put out a hand and touched the shield. He jerked his hand back and shook it, as if he’d been stung. Simon didn’t look scared or concerned, merely amused at their attempts.

Mario fingered the coins in his pocket, and the ice flower. The fireball hadn’t gone through the shield, but maybe he could freeze it. Simon turned his gaze onto Mario, looked through him, as if he knew exactly what he was thinking.

“You’re not giving up,” Simon mused. “I’d like that about you if it wasn’t so bloody annoying.”

Angel had completed his circuit of Simon and the force field, and now stood with his body between Simon and Mario, partly hiding Mario from Simon’s view. Mario reached into his back pocket and wrapped his fingers around the item he carried there in case of an emergency. He thought this qualified.

“Get down, Angel,” Mario said, keeping his voice low and relying on Angel’s enhanced sense of hearing. As soon as Angel dropped, Mario threw the wrench like he was throwing a baseball to second, attempting to catch the runner stealing. He held his breath as he waited to see whether the wrench would pass through the shield. It did. Simon had only a second to look surprised before the wrench struck him in the head and he went down like a ton of bricks.

“Wow!” Angel said as he bounced to his feet. “That was some throw,” he said admiringly, then turned his attention onto the seemingly unconscious madman. Angel reached out cautiously, but he was able to touch Simon without being flung back by the shield. Simon didn’t move, no matter how much Angel poked him. Or how hard.

“Knocking him out must have disabled the shield,” Angel said as he rose to his feet. “That was pretty awesome; you throw pretty good for a plumber.”

Mario grinned at the compliment, then turned his attention back to Simon. “What are we going to do about him?”

“I don’t know,” Adam said, “but unfortunately, knocking him out didn’t fix things.”

Mario picked up the Magic 8-ball that had rolled out of Simon’s hand when he fell. Mario shook the ball as he spoke, “Is Simon a big jerk?” then he looked at the screen. “It is decidedly so,” he told Angel.

“No question,” Angel agreed. “If he cast a spell or curse he had to use a talisman, or something.”

“How do you know?” Mario asked.

Angel shrugged.

“Do you think this is it?” Mario said, bouncing the 8-ball in his palm.

“Only one way to find out.” Angel took the 8-ball from Mario and threw it to the ground. He curled himself around Mario to protect him from the shards, and Mario had to go up on his toes to peer over Angel’s shoulder. The 8-ball lay in pieces, completely smashed, but monsters continued to roam the streets.

“Not the 8-ball,” Mario sighed dejectedly.

“Then it has to be something else,” Angel said determinedly. “And he’s got to have it on him. He doesn’t look like the type to let his talisman out of his sight.”

They knelt and searched Simon’s pockets, then the duffel bag that had sat at his feet. Inside the duffel was a padded box, and inside the box an orb that appeared to be filled with dancing lights. When Mario lifted the globe out of the box, it vibrated in his palm, as if all those dancing lights were trying to get out.

Mario held the orb out reverently to Angel. “I think this is it.”

Angel cupped his hands protectively beneath Mario’s and they both rose to their feet. “Only one way to find out,” he said again, but stopped Mario before he could attempt to smash the orb.

“Do you think we’ll forget . . . this?”

Mario didn’t know (he didn’t even know if he’d remain in this dimension, but he didn’t tell Angel that), but he hoped that they didn’t forget. He slid one hand around Angel’s neck, wanting one more kiss just in case they did forget, and Angel bent to him willingly.

“I don’t want to forget,” Mario said against Angel’s lips when they’d ended the kiss.

“Me neither.”

Angel claimed Mario’s lips and kissed him as if he could imprint the last few hours on Mario’s brain through the kiss. The orb fell from their hands, and they wrapped their arms around each other. They ignored the sound of the orb smashing on the pavement, and only broke the kiss when the memories started to resurface.

Kris gasped, as if he’d been drowning, and only now got his first breath of air. “Adam,” he breathed, remembering meeting Adam at the party, and how Cale had rolled his eyes and left them alone to talk when he’d realized that Kris had no intention of leaving Adam’s side.

“Adam,” Kris said again. “That’s a much better name than Angel.”

Adam growled (which Kris found really sexy, even if he wouldn’t tell Adam that), and captured Kris’ lips once more.

When Adam released him, Kris breathlessly said, “You kiss even better than vampire-you.”

Adam looked pleased, but instead of teasing Kris, he said, “Kris, with a ‘k’. I like it.”

They stood staring at each other with sappy smiles splitting their faces until a groan from the body lying at their feet broke their reverie.

“What are we going to do with him?” Kris said, giving Simon a disgusted poke with the toe of his boot. “No one is going to believe he put a spell on everyone and . . . .” Kris looked around, looked at Adam, then down at himself. “. . . turned us all into our costumes?”

“Yeah, I have no idea,” Adam said.

Around them the chaos had been replaced by confusion, children crying in fear, and adults and older children moaning in pain.

“We need to make sure emergency services have been alerted,” Adam said, reaching for his cell. “And then we need to get back to that party, check on our friends. And then maybe we can talk?” he added before speaking into the phone.

Kris was worried about Cale, and Allison, who’d been hosting the party, and hoped that nothing bad had happened to them, but he couldn’t help his mind wandering back to Adam’s kiss. It wasn’t _entirely_ his fault; his lips were still tingling and that made it difficult to concentrate on anything else.

“We could,” Kris agreed when Adam put the phone away. “Talk. Or we could kiss some more.”

Adam smiled, and it made Kris’ insides go all twisty. “I like the way you think.”

Kris couldn’t keep his eyes from dropping to Adam’s lips, which looked as red and swollen as his own felt. He sort of liked the way he thought, too.

The End

  



End file.
